My Encounter with a Wild Animal
I am writing about an encounter that I had once with a red fox. My encounter with this native animal took place when I was feeding my neighbors pets. My neighbors needed me to watch over and care for their barnyard pets this past summer when they went on vacation. This was an encounter I had with a wild, red fox and it is an encounter I will not soon forget .This encounter I had with what is often an elusive, rarely seen wild animal is one that I think hardly anyone else will ever get to experience. I can tell you for sure I had the most awful scare when I came face-to-face with this wild creature. I believe this experience was rare and that most people will not get to have this type of encounter with a wild animal because for one thing it is rare around here to even see a fox, and secondly foxes are nocturnal animals so very rarely do you see them in the day time. After having experienced this rare encounter my views of the fox have changed. I now believe instead of a fox being a low profile, night hunter, that he is now a roamer of the day and that he will do whatever he wants. I believe that the fox is now an animal with two distinctly different sides. One minute he can be nice and cuddly looking and the next he is trying to bite and hurt you.
This freak occurrence took place at my neighbor’s home in their barnyard. It was just like any other summer morning in the country. The sun was slowly rising across the eastern sky and there was a glow like many early summer mornings have. The kind of sunrise that offers “this will be a great day, not just a good day”.
There was nothing out of the ordinary to foreshadow this strange encounter I was about to have with Mr. Fox. The lucky person this particular summer day was me but I was not prepared for the circle of events that would unfold when Mr. Fox and I met face-to-face in my neighbor’s barn. There was only one small, squawking, hysterical chicken between Mr. Fox and me. The fox came upon me just as I entered the barn to feed the domestic animals and all of a sudden I was hearing hissing and gnarling like I have never heard before. I did not know what was happening but I knew it was not good. “Oh shit!” I said as I turned and there in front of me was a big, bushy-tailed red fox. It was obvious someone’s space had been invaded but was it mine or Mr. Fox?
I had never been this close to a fox before and for a moment I did not know what to do! The one thing I knew was that I did not want to harm the creature but nothing was for certain as the fox was very aggressive and unrelenting as I tried to get past him to leave the barn. The fox blocked my path and continued hissing, growling, and showing his razor-like teeth at me. I was thinking lots of things all at the same time. I wondered if the animal had rabies, or was sick, or had babies in the barn. Was he just pissed at me because I was between him and his breakfast, the squawking chicken? Why would he come at me like this without me being in his territory but he in mine? If he only comes out primarily at night, why is he here in this place this morning? After only a few minutes of wondering what to do and how to stay safe and not have to harm the fox, he backed away as quietly and swiftly as he came. I saw him running away into the distance.
I had a feeling come over me as the fox ran into the woods and this encounter changed the way I look at these beautiful creatures. I like foxes and I think it’s exciting to have them around, however I believe they should be respected and not underestimated in our world. The fox showed me his worth as a wild creature and came maybe as a symbol to me in this encounter letting me know I was in his world and he was making a statement about his need to be free and that he will not be underestimated. I know from sharing this encounter since it happened that no one I personally know has ever had this type of encounter with a wild animal. It seems like it’s one of those things that only one person in the world gets to experience. My life is better that I had this experience alone, in this place with this creature of nature.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
A Moment in the October Woods
A Moment in the October Woods
It is one of those crisp and clear October days when the leaves are turning bright orange and yellow right before the first killing frost, a sign that winter will soon follow. As I walk my feet crunch like I am walking on crunched up newspapers. Here I am in a place I love where nothing else seems to matter. A walk in the woods is always peaceful and calm bringing me to places that don’t require explanation. I can be in the moment and take in all the sights and sounds of nature that make this the special place it is.
As I walk I think about so many things. I feel connected to my past and to my future. I think about things that have already been and things that may happen. I remember walking in these woods the day I killed my first wild turkey or shot my first buck. The walk in the woods reminds me that centuries ago Indians and settlers probably walked these same hills in this woods seeing the same sights and taking in the same creatures I see in action. Am I where they walked and doing what they did in this very spot? This October woods is as majestic and peaceful now as it was centuries ago and it provides a great place to immerse myself to think and just be. I do not have to talk or explain; I can just be and take in the scenes of this magnificent place that brings me to my happy place. Perhaps the Indians and settlers of long ago had the same feelings and thoughts I have walking here now in this October woods.
As I walk a little further down my trail I see a rabbit run as fast and furiously as it can to dodge me and hide, fearful I might harm him. Now I know what they mean when they say someone is as “scared as a rabbit”! He is safe as he runs into the biggest blackberry patches with so many thorns he definitely is safe and I surely will not come after him. Maybe my Indian ancestors would kill him with an arrow to be in the evening stew and he would not be as lucky as he is today. How fortunate he is to live here amidst the bushes and suddenly I hear something! It is a gray squirrel running around a giant oak like he wants me to play hide and seek or like he is saying “catch me”! Little does he know, I would have no way to keep up with him as he runs quickly up the tree and down the other side without purpose or a specific place to go. He must think I want his acorns as he tries to get them up the tree to a safe shelter for winter.
As I look ahead, I see a buck with his head bent down and he is pawing at the ground near a decaying stump. His antlers are massive and they are shiny just having lost their velvet at the end of the summer growth. He turns and sniffs. He does not see me yet. Will he smell me? Will he hear me? He lowers his head again and resumes his work with the stump. I step on a twig and the crack is enough to send the buck running straight toward me in a full leap. Quick, out of the way and he darts past me just a bolt of lightening! He is gone as quickly as he came. I am sure his hide would be tacked to someone’s teepee or his pelt would make a fine leather outfit for a brave!
As I enter the end of the trail I see signs of turkey scratches. They have been here alright in this place and feeding from the tracks. I am confident the turkeys who recently visited this place would be the feathers for an Indian headdress or for some decoration in the Indian lodge. I think about it must have felt to be an Indian centuries ago hunting these same woods where I now walk and seeing the same animals I see! Did we walk in the same footsteps and have the same experiences in these October woods? No one will ever really know but there is a spirit that connects us even now.
It is one of those crisp and clear October days when the leaves are turning bright orange and yellow right before the first killing frost, a sign that winter will soon follow. As I walk my feet crunch like I am walking on crunched up newspapers. Here I am in a place I love where nothing else seems to matter. A walk in the woods is always peaceful and calm bringing me to places that don’t require explanation. I can be in the moment and take in all the sights and sounds of nature that make this the special place it is.
As I walk I think about so many things. I feel connected to my past and to my future. I think about things that have already been and things that may happen. I remember walking in these woods the day I killed my first wild turkey or shot my first buck. The walk in the woods reminds me that centuries ago Indians and settlers probably walked these same hills in this woods seeing the same sights and taking in the same creatures I see in action. Am I where they walked and doing what they did in this very spot? This October woods is as majestic and peaceful now as it was centuries ago and it provides a great place to immerse myself to think and just be. I do not have to talk or explain; I can just be and take in the scenes of this magnificent place that brings me to my happy place. Perhaps the Indians and settlers of long ago had the same feelings and thoughts I have walking here now in this October woods.
As I walk a little further down my trail I see a rabbit run as fast and furiously as it can to dodge me and hide, fearful I might harm him. Now I know what they mean when they say someone is as “scared as a rabbit”! He is safe as he runs into the biggest blackberry patches with so many thorns he definitely is safe and I surely will not come after him. Maybe my Indian ancestors would kill him with an arrow to be in the evening stew and he would not be as lucky as he is today. How fortunate he is to live here amidst the bushes and suddenly I hear something! It is a gray squirrel running around a giant oak like he wants me to play hide and seek or like he is saying “catch me”! Little does he know, I would have no way to keep up with him as he runs quickly up the tree and down the other side without purpose or a specific place to go. He must think I want his acorns as he tries to get them up the tree to a safe shelter for winter.
As I look ahead, I see a buck with his head bent down and he is pawing at the ground near a decaying stump. His antlers are massive and they are shiny just having lost their velvet at the end of the summer growth. He turns and sniffs. He does not see me yet. Will he smell me? Will he hear me? He lowers his head again and resumes his work with the stump. I step on a twig and the crack is enough to send the buck running straight toward me in a full leap. Quick, out of the way and he darts past me just a bolt of lightening! He is gone as quickly as he came. I am sure his hide would be tacked to someone’s teepee or his pelt would make a fine leather outfit for a brave!
As I enter the end of the trail I see signs of turkey scratches. They have been here alright in this place and feeding from the tracks. I am confident the turkeys who recently visited this place would be the feathers for an Indian headdress or for some decoration in the Indian lodge. I think about it must have felt to be an Indian centuries ago hunting these same woods where I now walk and seeing the same animals I see! Did we walk in the same footsteps and have the same experiences in these October woods? No one will ever really know but there is a spirit that connects us even now.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
A Natural Place Disrupted
A Natural Place Disrupted
“Grab your poles boys and let’s go fishin” Dad would say to Seth, my brother and me. It didn’t take long before we hopped into the front of “Old Blue” Dad’s 1987 pickup truck and off we went to Ryerson. Wow!!! When we were little my brother Seth and I referred to the trip to Ryerson State Park as “Ryer Lakin” short for “let’s go to Ryerson and let’s go fishing”! What a great time we had just taking in the scenery and talking about anything that came to mind, girls, cars, life in general. We would spend hours just talking about what two boys, ages ten and twelve talk about with their Dad!
Ryerson Lake was a large state park located about thirty minutes from our home and it was a big, beautiful lake full of rainbow trout and other assorted fish that kids just love to catch on a warm, summer evening. There was nothing like fishing at Ryerson for two boys and their dad on a hot summer evening just when everything starts to get that orange glow just before the evening sun sinks below the horizon. Add a gentle breeze, a few fishing worms and a pole and it didn’t get any better than this.
Ryerson Lake was a great place to fish until the mines came through and expanded and the lake had to be drained because there was a huge hole in the spillway as a result of mine subsidence in southwestern Greene County. The loss of the lake was really sad especially for my brother and me because we had some terrific summer evenings we spent there just baiting our hooks and casting over and over to see what big fish might be foolish enough to bite down and get caught!
I had read about the lake and the effects of mine subsidence on it but it was not as meaningful to me nor did it really impact me until I went there one afternoon and saw what used to be the lake now a grass bowl of green without any water. “How can this happen?” I asked myself with utter amazement that anything so big and beautiful could have become to desolate and barren! No fishing at Ryerson! What a sad day that was for my brother, Dad and me to see what had been out favorite fishing bank now a muddy, stinky, soggy, stink hole.
Ryerson Lake was an icon in the community and people came from the north, east, south, and west to enjoy the serenity and peacefulness of a quiet ripple like a skipping stone as they cast their fishing line onto the glassy water! From the bank, fish were jumping every now and then as if to say “you can’t catch me” but a belching bullfrog made it a perfect day for sure.
I am not sure how or why Ryerson Lake became what now looks like a massive football field with no trace of water or fish and some say it will be revitalized and restored to a lake in the future. While I would like to believe that is the case, I don’t see any sign that it will happen in my lifetime and I am so blessed that I had the opportunity to experience the beauty and awe of this place when it was something to behold! I am only sorry that I can never fish at Ryerson Lake with my brother and Dad like I once did and one thing is for sure, it will never be the same most likely in my lifetime. There is just something special about two young boys, their dad, and a fishing hole like Ryerson Lake.
http://www.dcnr.state.pa.us/stateParks/parks/ryersonstation.aspx
http://www.trails.com/tcatalog_trail.aspx?trailid=HGN130-053
“Grab your poles boys and let’s go fishin” Dad would say to Seth, my brother and me. It didn’t take long before we hopped into the front of “Old Blue” Dad’s 1987 pickup truck and off we went to Ryerson. Wow!!! When we were little my brother Seth and I referred to the trip to Ryerson State Park as “Ryer Lakin” short for “let’s go to Ryerson and let’s go fishing”! What a great time we had just taking in the scenery and talking about anything that came to mind, girls, cars, life in general. We would spend hours just talking about what two boys, ages ten and twelve talk about with their Dad!
Ryerson Lake was a large state park located about thirty minutes from our home and it was a big, beautiful lake full of rainbow trout and other assorted fish that kids just love to catch on a warm, summer evening. There was nothing like fishing at Ryerson for two boys and their dad on a hot summer evening just when everything starts to get that orange glow just before the evening sun sinks below the horizon. Add a gentle breeze, a few fishing worms and a pole and it didn’t get any better than this.
Ryerson Lake was a great place to fish until the mines came through and expanded and the lake had to be drained because there was a huge hole in the spillway as a result of mine subsidence in southwestern Greene County. The loss of the lake was really sad especially for my brother and me because we had some terrific summer evenings we spent there just baiting our hooks and casting over and over to see what big fish might be foolish enough to bite down and get caught!
I had read about the lake and the effects of mine subsidence on it but it was not as meaningful to me nor did it really impact me until I went there one afternoon and saw what used to be the lake now a grass bowl of green without any water. “How can this happen?” I asked myself with utter amazement that anything so big and beautiful could have become to desolate and barren! No fishing at Ryerson! What a sad day that was for my brother, Dad and me to see what had been out favorite fishing bank now a muddy, stinky, soggy, stink hole.
Ryerson Lake was an icon in the community and people came from the north, east, south, and west to enjoy the serenity and peacefulness of a quiet ripple like a skipping stone as they cast their fishing line onto the glassy water! From the bank, fish were jumping every now and then as if to say “you can’t catch me” but a belching bullfrog made it a perfect day for sure.
I am not sure how or why Ryerson Lake became what now looks like a massive football field with no trace of water or fish and some say it will be revitalized and restored to a lake in the future. While I would like to believe that is the case, I don’t see any sign that it will happen in my lifetime and I am so blessed that I had the opportunity to experience the beauty and awe of this place when it was something to behold! I am only sorry that I can never fish at Ryerson Lake with my brother and Dad like I once did and one thing is for sure, it will never be the same most likely in my lifetime. There is just something special about two young boys, their dad, and a fishing hole like Ryerson Lake.
http://www.dcnr.state.pa.us/stateParks/parks/ryersonstation.aspx
http://www.trails.com/tcatalog_trail.aspx?trailid=HGN130-053
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